Addicted
by Dakota-Jones
Summary: Addiction drives John to lose touch with reality. Chas is caught in the crossfire. Chastine!
1. Chapter 1

John never expected it to come to this.

All he wanted was a few moments' peace. It didn't seem too much to ask, to borrow some angelic energy so he wouldn't have to face the visions and nightmares.

He never meant to take it this far.

"He's not going to wake up, John."

Midnite's voice was barely there, a memory, repeating the same words in his head over and over. His words were sympathetic, his tone was an accusation. He'd told John a hundred times, a _thousand_ times that something like this wasn't going to work, and that even if it did it would cause irreparable damage.

John didn't listen.

The sounds of traffic and a booming party across the street were muted in his ears as he traced his fingers down soft feathers, watching the young man's face for any reaction, any sign of the life that had been there.

Nothing.

"Chas…"

* * *

"John! John!"

John kept walking, though he couldn't keep a smirk from gracing his features.

"Hey, John, slow down, wouldya?"

John finally slowed down and mock-sighed, giving his former apprentice a look.

"Even after you die, you're still tagging along?"

Chas grinned, the winds fluttering the feathers on his wings ever-so-slightly. "Even after I die, you're still an asshole?"

"Touché," John said with a single nod of his head. "What do you need?"

"Ice cream."

"You know I don't keep that stuff-"

"I hid it in your freezer."

John chuckled, pulling out his keys as they reached the bowling alley. "Fine, kid. Get that stuff out of my fridge and get lost. Midnite's coming over for a meeting."

"The king is leaving his castle? The world must be ending."

"No, actually, I have better whiskey."

"Can I-"

"No."

John opened the door and Chas practically skipped to the refrigerator, opening it up and fishing around until he found the pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream stashed in the back. He grabbed a used spoon from the counter, and then jumped up to sit on the table and dig in to the ice cream.

"Anything exciting happen while I've been gone?"

"You've only been gone a couple weeks, Chas."

"A lot can happen in a couple weeks."

John poured himself a half glass of whiskey, avoiding staring at the half-angel sitting on his kitchen table. "You haven't been watching from some Heavenly cloud?"

"It's not like Monty Python, John. I can't just open up a hole in the clouds, grab a bag of popcorn and spy on people when they get it on."

"Why do you have to relate everything to sex?"

"I'm a fuckin' teenager. I don't _relate_ everything to sex, everything _is_ related to sex."

A knock on the door cut John off before he could get out a snarky reply, and he could sense Midnite outside the door. That kind of presence was hard to miss.

"Come on in," he called out, and Midnite walked in as Chas practically buried his face in the container of ice cream, shoveling it in as if he hadn't eaten in days.

"Running a soup kitchen for homeless angels?" Midnite asked with a smirk, the bitterly sweet smell of cigar smoke flooding the room, a half-smoked cigar barely held between his lips.

"Just got a walking, talking, flying garbage disposal," John said, pinching Chas's wing. "Out, kid. I've got business to do here."

Chas lifted his head, giving John the best puppy dog eyes he could manage. "But John…"

"No buts. Out."

Chas sighed heavily. "Fine. But I'm coming back later for the rest of my ice cream stash."

"There's more?"

Of course, by the time John had asked this question, Chas was already out the door. Midnite had already begun to unpack the bag he brought, an array of small boxes on the table.

"These were just sent to me from Israel," Midnite said, carefully setting out the last of the seven boxes. "Your standard relics. No big mysteries here."

John snorted. "Good. The last time you gave me a so-called mystery relic, I ended up being a cat magnet."

"Can't say I didn't warn you," Midnite said with a shrug, opening the first box. "This one will go for 700. It's a copy of the book of Job, written many centuries ago…"

And so the bartering began. John bought three out of the first six relics, stashing them away as Midnite explained each one. By the time they got to the seventh one, John was pretty sure he wouldn't be interested- the thing simply looked like a leaf pendant on a string, pretty beat up.

"This one is a rarity," Midnite started, lifting the necklace from the box. "This was found entombed with the remains of a cousin of the disciple Matthew. I did some research, and found that it has a very interesting use indeed."

John was busy trying to ignore the urge to grab Midnite's cigar and take a drag off it. "Enough with the melodramatics. What's it do?"

"It uses spiritual energy to create psychic blocks."

That certainly peaked John's attention. He stepped forward and took the pendant from Midnite's hands. "It what?"

"Just what I said. A powerful psychic could use this pendant to channel energy from a spiritual source and use it to lessen psychic visions," Midnite said with a shrug. "For example…you could set that pendant on any one of the relics you just bought from me, or leave it sitting in a glass of holy water for temporary and partial relief from your psychic visions."

John nodded, trying not to look all that interested. "How much?"

"Five thousand."

"Four thousand."

"I won't go under five thousand for this one, John. I'm not an idiot," Midnite said. He obviously knew that for an artifact like this, with that kind of potential, John would pay any price.

John practically growled, but moments later walked over to the counter and pushed the microwave aside. Behind it was a safe, and John opened it and pulled out a stack of bills, counting them carefully.

"Five grand. It's all there," he said, handing the wad of bills over to Midnite.

"Done deal."

Midnite began to gather the unbought relics, watching as John turned the pendant over in his hands.

"Use it sparingly," he suddenly said, breaking John out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"It hasn't been tested for long term use. Only use it when you must."

John nodded, but inside he was just laughing. He knew better than to abuse relics, he'd done it before, and it never ended well.

"Sure, Midnite."

* * *

That relic was as bad as the cigarettes. It was an absolute addiction.

But like nicotine, it was taking more and more to have the same effect.

At first he just set the pendant on one of the relics he'd bought from Midnite, leaving it there as he went about the daily business in his apartment. He immediately noticed the difference; the real world was clearer, the voices in his mind were muddled, barely understandable.

But soon that effect began to wear off.

He then dropped the relic in a glass of holy water, and once again that clear, fresh-air feeling was back. He could relax unlike ever before, and for once he just sat back and breathed deeply, enjoying these newfound sensations of being closer to normal.

It still didn't last. The relic began to wear off again. John found his hands shaking and his mind on edge, as if he were going through withdrawal all over again.

The door opening pulled John from his frantic search to find new holy fuel for the relic, and it was like a message hit him straight from God.

Chas walked over to the refrigerator. He was talking, but John couldn't quite hear what he was saying. He was too out of it, too desperate to understand.

"John? Are you even listening?"

"I got you something, Chas."

Chas looked like John had just admitted to being a transvestite. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

"You? _You_ got_ me_ something?"

_Don't do this, John, you don't know what you're doing, _John thought, but by then he'd already extended his open hand to Chas, the necklace in his palm. Chas stared at him warily, glancing down at the offered pendant.

"You got me…jewelry?" he asked skeptically. "Are you okay, John? Are you sick?"

"I'm fine. I'm absolutely fine. Is it so bad that I wanted to do something nice for once?"

Chas hesitated, still uncertain. John decided to give him another nudge.

"Chas…just take it. Do you always have to be so damn analytical?"

Chas smirked, and then took the necklace from John's hand, and John immediately felt a flood of power surge through his. The voices were gone, those dark corners of his mind seemed lit by Heaven's light…it was like being born again.

"Kinda cool lookin'. Is it a relic?"

John took a deep breath. "It is. I don't really have any use for it, wanted you to have it," he said a bit shakily.

Chas put the pendant around his neck, tucking it under his shirt. The feeling in John intensified.

"I should die more often, if you're gonna start randomly giving me stuff," Chas said with a grin, and John smiled weakly.

"You know, Chas, now that you've got God on your side, I think I could use your help a bit more often…"


	2. Chapter 2

It was apparent that something was very wrong by the second day.

John was feeling better than ever. He felt like he was twenty years younger, like he could go anywhere he wanted, do anything he felt like, and nothing could stop him. The voices were almost completely gone, and the visions were muddled, no longer intense and frightening.

So what if exorcisms seemed a bit harder than usual? It was worth it.

Chas, however, was a different story.

At first, the kid was excited to help, ecstatic that John was finally letting him. He was prompt, eager, alert, all those things that John expected from him. After about a day, though, he seemed dazed. Unfocused. He even began dozing at the wheel, always too tired to quite get things right.

Chas thought he'd just come down with some kind of strange flu bug- never mind the fact that angels weren't supposed to get sick.

"Ready to go, kid?"

Chas didn't look up. He was staring at the tabletop, his wings drooping, his gaze distant. John took a few steps toward him, raising an eyebrow.

"Chas…Earth to Chas," he said teasingly, poking at one of Chas's wings. Chas jumped, and then let out a long breath.

"Geez, don't scare me like that," he said, shakily standing. John could see his hands trembling.

"You alright, kid?" he asked, almost reaching out to steady the boy, but quickly catching himself. Chas nodded, grabbing his car keys off the table.

"Mmhmm. M'okay," Chas insisted, nodding and sleepily rubbing his eyes.

John was about to object, but by then Chas was already headed for the door. John followed, feeling the guilt building in him.

He had to tell Chas what he'd done. That necklace was draining him physically, driving him into the ground, and the boy was oblivious to what was actually causing all the problems.

But maybe he could hold out a little longer. Just long enough for John to savor this a little more. It wasn't like Chas couldn't bounce back from this. The kid bounced back from everything.

Once again, John had to repeatedly wake Chas up. He fell asleep just about every time the car stopped at a light, even sometimes while the car was moving.

The spark was gone. The spark that kept Chas talking about nonsense, the spark that made his hazel eyes turn from blue to green to brown with his rapidly-changing moods, that spark that gave him an unbelievable angelic glow. John hadn't noticed that spark, not until it wasn't there.

He had to tell him. Now. Before this went too far.

"Chas, I need to-"

_**CRUNCH.**_

John was suddenly thrown forward in his seat, and ended up slamming his forehead against the front passenger seat thanks to his damn pride in insisting that he didn't _need_ a damn seatbelt. He heard a pained yowl and a string of curses from the front seat as he recovered.

"Oh, damn…oh fuck," Chas said, fumbling to undo his seatbelt, obviously shocked. He turned to look at John. "You okay, John? You okay?"

John nodded numbly. "Yeah. I think so."

Chas stumbled out of the car, running his hand through his hair and letting out a sigh as he surveyed the damage. John took a few deep breaths and then stepped out as well, walking to the front of the car.

It was repairable, but certainly not a cheap fix. Steam was coming out from under the hood, which was folded a good foot in the air from the impact. The back bumper of the car Chas had hit was crumpled, a cheap fix, but the driver of that car was less than thankful for walking away unharmed and not at fault.

"What the _hell_ are you doing? What the _hell_?" the man shrieked as he got out of his car. He was one of those blue-collar workers, in a suit, probably headed home from work.

"I'm so, _so _sorry, sir, I swear I'll pay for the damage…" Chas said, obviously not really there, still in shock.

"You're damn right you'll be paying for it! Damn right! Fuckin' kid, you probably don't even have insurance, do you?"

"It's not my car, sir, it's the-"

"I'll have your fuckin' money _and_ your job! You shouldn't be on the road, damn bitch!"

At this point, the man was practically screaming in Chas's face, and that was enough for John to step in.

"Look, bastard, this is quite obviously an _accident_, so why don't you get off his back about it?" he said harshly, stepping between the man and the bewildered teenager.

"Why don't you stay out of this?" the man said, a threat in his tone. John sneered.

"Back off. He said he'd pay for the damage, he'll probably lose his job anyway without you pushing it," he pointed out just as a cop car pulled up.

It took an hour and a half to calm the man down and get everything sorted out- including the cops putting Chas through a breathalyzer and a drug test, thinking that he was stoned from the distant, barely-there way he was acting. When it was all over, John took Chas back to the apartment, increasingly worried for the boy's well-being.

He couldn't help but notice as he helped Chas up the stairs that when he was touching the boy, not even the visions could reach him.

"Thanks for…well, helpin' out back there," Chas said softly as they walked in the apartment. John shrugged, throwing his jacket on the back of a chair.

"Not a problem. Listen, Chas, I really need to tell you something."

"Me first."

John gave him a curious look. "What?"

"I…I've been wantin' to tell you something. Since before…before I died," Chas said, shifting his weight nervously, playing with the hem of his shirt.

John took a deep breath. "And?"

Chas paused, looked out the window for a few moments. "John…I just…"

"Chas, just say it. Stop dancin' around it."

Chas sighed, nodded…and then stepped forward, put one hand on the back of John's head, and pulled him into a clumsy, inexperienced kiss.

John was in Heaven, for those few brief moments. Everything was gone, everything but Chas, the feel of Chas's lips, the warmth of Chas's skin…

Then, he realized what he was doing. He was kissing an eighteen year old boy. His apprentice. He'd known this kid since he was 14, and he was _kissing_ him. It couldn't be right, couldn't be.

He broke off the kiss, his automatic reaction to be to push Chas away. Chas stumbled back and hit the door, the shove a little harder than John meant for it to be.

"Chas…" John started, but he didn't know what to say. He was supposed to be telling Chas about the pendant, telling him about the relic's effects, saving him…but now John couldn't think straight, couldn't concentrate at all. All he knew was that something that his mind said was wrong had felt so right for that short time, and though he dealt with breaches of morals every day, this was different. This involved Chas.

Chas stared at John, breathing hard, his eyes searching. "John, I've been in love with you for...for…for a long time, a-and I just wanted you to know-"

"No, Chas, _no_."

"But I just want-"

"_No!_" John snapped, backing up against the table. "Fucking _no_, Chas, you can't…we just…"

John could see already that Chas was near tears, fighting them with everything he had left. He wanted nothing more than to hold him close, tell him it was okay, that he might…

That he just might feel the same way.

Chas was quickly realizing what he'd done. John knew this because within moments, the door had slammed shut and Chas was gone.

"CHAS!" he yelled, almost falling on his face as he sprinted for the door. He took the stairs two at a time, but by the time he got out onto the crowded street, there was no way of knowing which way the boy had gone. He turned around, searching the crowd for that familiar, soft, curly hair, but has was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck. God dammit," John muttered, everything crumbling down around him. Chas had run away, he didn't _want_ to be found…

And that pendant was still draining him.

John didn't have long to find him before it would be too late. Main problem being, he had no idea how long Chas had left…or what would happen when there was nothing left for the pendant to draw on.


	3. Chapter 3

John never expected it to come to this.

All he wanted was a few moments' peace. It didn't seem too much to ask, to borrow some angelic energy so he wouldn't have to face the visions and nightmares.

He never meant to take it this far.

"He's not going to wake up, John."

Midnite's voice was barely there, a memory, repeating the same words in his head over and over. His words were sympathetic, his tone was an accusation. He'd told John a hundred times, a _thousand_ times that something like this wasn't going to work, and that even if it did it would cause irreparable damage.

John didn't listen.

The sounds of traffic and a booming party across the street were muted in his ears as he traced his fingers down soft feathers, watching the young man's face for any reaction, any sign of the life that had been there.

Nothing.

"Chas…"

Still nothing. The boy was as still and silent as he had been when Midnite first carried him up to John's door. John had been out for hours searching, but after that, he could only hope Chas would come back on his own.

It had taken a fellow half breed angel finding Chas unconscious in an alley and a revival spell at Midnite's before Chas ended up at home once again. And even that may not have been enough.

Midnite's snarls and cries of outrage at John's outright breaking of the balance hadn't really been necessary. John felt bad enough already.

Now he could do nothing but wait, gently running his fingers through Chas's hair and feathers, watching for any sign of life. Even though Midnite had taken the medallion and done what he could to help ease the angel back into living, there was no way of telling if it would work. And so far, Chas had shown no signs of improvement.

"Look, kid…I know what I did was shitty, but that's no excuse for you to go all comatose. Come on…angels don't die. Wake the fuck up," John ordered, clenching his jaw when nothing happened in response.

"Isn't God supposed to keep shit like this from happening?" he asked under his breath, frustrated. He stood up and began to pace, running his hand through his hair.

"You can't expect God to clean up all of your messes, John."

John spun around, and leaning against the doorframe was another angel- a very familiar one.

"Isabel? What are you doing here?"

"That's no way to greet a lady…"

"Well, excuse me for not setting out the fuckin' tea and crumpets."

Isabel smirked, walking up to the bed and sitting down on the edge of it beside Chas. She gently touched his hair, and John had to clench his fists to keep himself from smacking her hand away out of sheer possessiveness.

"I'm sure you're aware of your mistake," she said to John, and he snorted.

"Yeah. I figured it out by now."

"And?"

John quirked an eyebrow. "And what?"

"What are you going to do about it?"

John shrugged. "I'll be here for him when he wakes up. And…well, and buy him those cupcakes he's addicted to. That always gets him to forgive and forget."

Isabel chuckled. "He's not going to wake up, John, until you've resolved the turmoil you set in motion."

"What other turmoil? I gave the medallion back, Midnite did all those spells, there's nothing else I can do!"

Isabel paused, tugging the sheets up a bit further on Chas. She stood up, smiling down at the angel before looking up at John, her eyes flecked with gold.

"I wasn't supposed to come here."

"Ooooh, rebel."

"Very funny. Let me finish."

John shrugged again. "Whatever."

"I had a direct order from the higher seraphim to stay out of the matter. They wanted you to figure things out on your own," Isabel continued, her voice still calm and kind. "But I remembered what you did for me. If it weren't for you, I would still be in hell."

"It was just-"

"Ssh," Isabel shushed him playfully. "And since I know how stubborn and detached you can be, I knew you wouldn't figure this out before Chas was lost to Oblivion. Even if you had figured it out, you might not have done it in time out of sheer pride."

John paused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the truth, John. The truth is the only thing that binds you, it's the only thing that binds Chas. His soul has no reason to return as long as you're stuck in your lies."

"Hey, I don't-"

"Please, John, don't deny it. You know I'm right."

John only pouted. Isabel laughed, reaching up and touching his face. "We'll call it even, now? You saved my soul, I save Chas's. Yes, that's about even."

"But…I don't know what I'm supposed to do," John admitted, and Isabel smiled.

"Yes, you do. The truth, John, that's all you need to make things right again."

A shimmer, and Isabel was gone, only empty space in front of John. It almost felt as if the whole thing had been a dream, as if the angel had never come to him with advice.

But he couldn't believe that, not as long as there was still a chance of saving Chas's soul.

He slowly walked over to the angel, sitting down on the bed next to him, watching him breath for a few moments. He sighed, not sure what to say or do.

"The truth…well, the truth is…I…this is dumb," John muttered with a frown. He felt stupid, talking to an unconscious kid with wings.

"The truth is I shouldn't have ever fuckin' let you be my apprentice. Look at where it put you. I told you I was bad news, you wouldn't fuckin' listen," John snapped. "And if you'd have just listened to me and stayed out of it that night, you wouldn't even have those stupid pigeon wings."

_Yeah, that's right, insult him for something that's your fault. Admit it, Constantine; you know that all of this is your fault._

He sighed again, gently running his fingers along the edge of one wing. The boy didn't stir.

"Although I guess I could've let you help more. I mean…maybe if I had, you would've been better prepared for everything else," he admitted in a mumble. "But that doesn't make it right for you to sneak into exorcisms, you got that?"

Still no movement. John was beginning to wonder how much time Chas had left. The boy's skin was so pale, his breathing so shallow that it made John's heart speed up with nervous tension.

"I know you just wanted to help, Chas, and I screwed it all up," John said softly, placing a hand on Chas's head, gently massaging the soft curls there. "I screwed up everything. I used you, I didn't listen to you, and I sure as hell didn't protect you."

It all seemed to be coming out now, and John couldn't seem to help but continue. He kept one hand in Chas's hair, mesmerized by the perfect texture, and the other hand on the boy's chest, making sure he was breathing. "I'm the reason you were so frustrated, I'm the reason you died, and now I'm the reason your soul is getting fucked over. And if I could take it all back, I would. Believe me, I fucking would."

Quite suddenly, the subtle rise and fall of Chas's chest stopped. John paused, his breath catching in his throat.

"Come on, Chas, don't do this again. Don't give up on me, I _need_ you."

No response. John leaned down and lightly kissed his forehead, and then set his forehead against Chas's.

"I'm sorry, kid. I'm sorry I never told you I love you."

* * *

"_John? Are you even listening?"_

_"I got you something, Chas."_

_Chas looked like John had just admitted to being a transvestite. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened._

_"You? **You** got **me** something?"_

_Don't do this, John, you don't know what you're doing, John thought, but by then he'd already extended his open hand to Chas, the necklace in his palm. Chas stared at him warily, glancing down at the offered pendant._

_"You got me…jewelry?" he asked skeptically. "Are you okay, John? Are you sick?"_

_"I'm fine. I'm absolutely fine. Is it so bad that I wanted to do something nice for once?"_

_Chas hesitated, still uncertain. John decided to give him another nudge._

_"Chas…just take it. Do you always have to be so damn analytical?"_

The scene played out like a movie, and then John seemed to slam back into his body- just as Chas was reaching for the necklace.

"FUCK!" John yelped, yanking the necklace back away from Chas's hand. Chas stared at John wide-eyed as the man raced to the window, breathlessly yanked it open, and then threw the necklace as hard as he could. The medallion shattered on the building across the street.

"John…are you okay?" Chas asked warily, and John turned around, grabbed the boy by the shoulders, and kissed him hard on the lips.

"Don't you _ever_ fuckin' take jewelry from me, got it?"

Chas stuttered for a few moment. "You, uh…I….what?"

"Don't worry about it. Come on, let's go get cupcakes."

"John, I'm scared."

"Have I mentioned I love you?"

"John, I'm fuckin' terrified."

"You'll get over it."


End file.
